The orders were clear. The tactics were set. Attack the target and achieve our goal...

We had been working on Project X3 for months and now it was time to go out there and do it. Gun, loaded, belt, secured, helmet, attatched, trousers, stained. I was ready. As the plane's floor opened and the fresh air whipped through the craft I said my prayers and jumped. Pulling the ripchord was always the worst part of parachuting down into opposing territory but I was able to do it with minimal fuss this time. As soon as the 'chute was up successfully I cocked the gun and peered through the scope. The enemy were near, I could hear them shouting orders. As my feet crunched against the gravel floor the first gunshot rung through the eerie air and I froze for a second rying to locate the gun that had shot it. Being in command of the mission added extra weight to my shoulders. I had to wait for all 8 troops to hit the ground, hopefully no hitting it too hard, before I could set off and save myself. "Never leave a good man down" was a motto I had always abided by, I was to be first onto the battlefield and last off.

My thoughts ran back to my first training session. At 18, I had just left school and been immediately recurited into the forces. At 20 I became one of the youngest commanders that the country had seen but I didn't let that phase me. I remember the recruitment advisor saulting me and handing me my forms. That was only 6 months ago, but they had been 6 very tough months.

As the 8th man hit the ground and unbuckled his 'chute we began to make our way along the small, narrow road. The Bangladeshi sun poured from the sky making the thick protective clothing stick to my skin. The gravel crunched under our feet, realising this would make our position obvious I ordered my men to walk on the grass just to the right of the path. The run down buildings grew more and more battered as we progressed through the fields until we finally had contact. A grenade. It landed no more than 10 metres away but its effects were minimal, it was a stun grenade. The sweat beaded on my face though it was of no concern to me, what I cared about was my men and the task in hand. As we reached the bottom of a hill I realised just how serious this task was to be. At the summit there were about 100 men, all standing armed with AK47's and a sniper or two. I cursed under my breath but didn't want to make my men as scared as I was at the moment so told them to take cover behind the two or three buildings situated nearby. I stood on the nearest, my back pressed up against the house's cool wall.

Breath man, breath. I pressed my eyelids shut and thought it through. There was nothing we had set out in our tactics for a 100 man army, we had only predicted 25 tops. We were screwed. I looked through a the window of the house, a gesture met with gun shot, a sniper bullet whistled through the grass at the front of the building. I looked around at where my men were located. They were all looking at me ready waiting for instructions. The team talk in the plane had been kill the hostiles, neutralise the area. Yeah, 'cause that was gonna happen now. The plane flew overhead, distracting their men for a minute or so, in that time I was ready, knelt under the window and ready for the right moment. The men took their positions, a simple hand movement would result in them starting to shoot. I nodded and done it. I turned to stand and began shooting through the window. 1, 2, 3 men down, 6 or 7 now. It was good but it wasn't enough. As I knelt back down to reload more sniper bullets whistled, these were closer. Their aim was good, I'd have to think of a new place to go, but there were none. As another of my men came down to reload he said to me "It's a 6 bullet sniper sir!" I knew what this meant, a lethal weapon but the 6th bullet had just whistled mearly inches over my head. I had done reloading. It was now or never. I shot again, and hit him first time. He fell like Cristiano Ronaldo being attacked by a bumble bee. No time to celebrate though as there were still another 60 men.

Everything seemed to slow suddenly, I thought back to home, why I was fighting here. There were many families in this country like mine, I had a wife, a young lad, I was fighting for them, and the Bangaldeshi's safety. Just as I snapped back into focus 2 of my men fell. I ran to one of them and found his face covered in blood. He was gone, the other was close to going too. We were down to 6. We had no option. I shouted to the guys to stop, when they didn't hear me I nearly lost it but cooled myself and called again. They got the message this time, just about. We picked up the injured soldier and the one who had passed away and ran. Back along the gravel path, through the fields and around the close to demolished houses. I heard them calling behind us, they were goddam close too. I pulled the radio out of the soldier whom I was carrying's bag. I yelled down it, "we need air support to take us back, one dead, one seriously wounded, get the hell back down here now!" "Roger that" I heard back down the bulky piece of plastic. My pace increased. A chopper was now audible, it touched down before us in minutes, we ran to the air craft, I was the first to arrive so placed the injured man on the floor and told the helicopter medic of his condition. It was looking grim. I turned to see 5 of our men at the chopper. 5 add me and the injured made 7. I cursed again. I turned to the medic and told him I was going to look for him. I ran and turned a corner. I rounded it at top speed fell over. It was the missing troop. He had been shot in the ankle. I looked around to be greeted by the sight of a man with a smoking gun. He had that evil smile spread across his face, that grin that told me it was him. Gritting my teeth I felt for my gun. It wasn't there. I was convinced I was deadmeat and just to wrap it all off another 20 of their men arrived. One of them pulled out a revolver and held it, aiming it straight between my eyes. I had said my goodbyes, my blessings were counted, my trousers now stained in a different way. Just as the man with the pistol was about to shoot a roar rang through the air. I turned around to see a jet black jaguar standing eye-to-eye with the man who seconds ago had a gun pointing for my face but now looked like he'd just had the same accident as I. He shouted something and the men retreated. I looked at the Jaguar for a moment, it had saved me. Seemingly, without realisation of what it had just down for me, it just walked away through a fence towards some of the houses we had passed twice now. I sat for a moment before the man on the ground groaned. I snapped into action and legged it to the chopper.

As we set off for our base about 30 miles away I looked out of the door, beyond the turret attatched to the side that I usually had my eyes on. As we lifted off the ground I looked and saw a jet black fuzz whipp across the small field with the houses. It was the jaguar, I was sure. A black cat had saved me, and sure enough I was soon to save some black cats myself.